


Blood For Blood (And We'll See What Emerges)

by cywscross



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Character Death, Gen, Ichigo vs. Gotei 13, M/M, Mental Instability, Murder, Pre-Slash, UraIchi Prompt Challenge 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15313032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cywscross/pseuds/cywscross
Summary: The Shinigami’s second-worst mistake was Order 66. Their worst mistake was their inability to carry it out in full.--UraIchi PC#1 Prompt:“You don’t believe in anything.”“I believe in you.”~ Les Miserables





	Blood For Blood (And We'll See What Emerges)

**Author's Note:**

> For UraIchi Prompt Challenge #1, I chose the quote prompt:  
> “You don’t believe in anything.”  
> “I believe in you.”  
>  _~ Les Miserables_

 

The blade withdraws with a wet squelch, and the Shinigami hits the ground with a thump. An absent flick of a wrist splatters the ground and part of the wall with excess blood but Ichigo doesn’t bother sheathing it as he toes at another body to make sure the assassin is well and truly dead. He watches with a detached sort of interest as liquid pools under the pile of corpses in front of him, darkened by the shadows cast by the buildings on either side of him and soaking into his shoes.

The muted clack of geta against cement approach from behind him, slow and measured, almost hesitant.

Ichigo doesn’t turn around right away. He stares instead at the slide of a drop of blood down the edge of his blade. It trembles at the tip before it falls, splashing into the puddle at his feet, deep enough for the disturbance to cause ripples.

The silence is thick behind him. Ichigo swings his blade in a deceptively careless half-arch before finally glancing back, head cocking with an animal-like intent.

He asks only one question: “Did you know?”

Kisuke takes a single careful breath. Benihime is at his side but sheathed. He is not wearing his hat. He has always been fair-skinned but today he beats that by a good five shades even as he meets Ichigo’s eerie yellow-on-black gaze steadily enough.

He does not think he has ever seen a pair of eyes so dead and yet so full of rage at the same time until now.

“I did not know,” He answers in a voice scraped raw, shakier than even he expected, but honest. He’s never anything less with Ichigo these days, but especially now, and there’s a part of him that’s genuinely shocked he hasn’t been struck dead on the spot yet. That he’s been given a chance to explain at all. “I did not know but I am- I’m so sorry, Ichigo.”

Ichigo only stares at him, unblinking, with half a dozen corpses at his feet, and Kisuke finds himself spilling out, “I went- I was in Seireitei, at the Twelfth. Kurotsuchi-san requested my assistance with an early warning system in case of another Quincy invasion.”

And how stupid was he that he actually went? On hindsight, however reluctant Kurotsuchi was about it, however much he cited that it was on Kyouraku’s orders, he still contained most of his insults and temper far longer than he usually did when there wasn’t even an ongoing crisis hanging over their heads, shoving random notes at Kisuke too, and that should’ve been his first clue.

But he just- After Kuchiki Rukia’s failed execution, after the first war, after Aizen, after grudgingly welcoming the Visored back into their midst and dealing with the fullbringers and helping Ichigo regain his powers and all the rebellions and invasions in-between, Kisuke didn’t think Soul Society would _still_ \- after all this time, after everything Ichigo has done for them - have the _audacity_ to turn around and pull something like this. At first, definitely, but not _now_. Not anymore.

This was never supposed to happen.

(And yet it’s exactly the sort of thing their government has done before, and Kisuke has gotten old and sloppy and _complacent_ for being so completely blindsided when they finally did it again.)

“Tessai-san took the kids when he went to visit with the Kidou Corps-” The same Kidou Corps whose signature barriers have dispersed but Kisuke can still sense the reiatsu’s lingering residue surrounding this town, barriers that would’ve ensured none of their victims could escape. And none did. “-and Yoruichi-san was at the Second. She was the one who found out and told me. The Senkaimon was shut down, something about maintenance and testing some new defenses, so I had to find another way back. Kuchiki-taichou waylaid me on my way to the Second. His clan has a private Senkaimon that he offered to let me use. He had one of his servants take me to it while he distracted some Patrol Corps officers demanding to be let in at the gates. I came as soon as I could.”

His voice dies on the last word, and he has nothing else to say. Nothing else he _can_ say. Not after rushing to the Kurosaki household, only to find a crime scene plastered with yellow tape and an interior that still hasn’t been scrubbed clean of bloodstains. Not after swinging by the Ishidas’, then Inoue’s and Sado’s and with increasing desperation even the homes of those other kids who were still only peripherally aware of the spiritual world, barely even involved.

He’s already heard the chatter going around. Serial killers, people think. Or some kind of terrorist attack. Twelve dead, no leads.

Kisuke’s been running all over town looking for Ichigo ever since. He’s less surprised than he probably should be that Ichigo - bold and reckless and about as subtle as a wrecking ball whenever he set out to save someone or protect something - has opted instead for quiet and methodical _assassination_.

But then again, he’s not saving anyone or protecting anything right now.

Kisuke’s counted thirty-nine bodies before arriving here in this alleyway. Plus these six is forty-five. That’s twelve Kidou Corps members to set up the barrier seals and three Onmitsukidou officers for every unsuspecting Human. Overkill, the higher-ups probably thought, but better safe than sorry. And they weren’t entirely wrong. For all that Ichigo and most of his friends have gone through Hell and back, figuratively _and_ literally, they have never dealt with a blade between the ribs, from behind, unseen, before. And neither Isshin nor Ryuuken were active fighters anymore. It was probably child’s play to eliminate them all.

All except one, because of course Ichigo’s soul was fast enough or maybe strong enough to fight back, and under any other circumstances, Kisuke might almost pity the Shinigami for it.

Ichigo finally moves. He takes a step towards Kisuke, and it’s all Kisuke can do not to flinch or draw Benihime or just flat-out _run_ because this Ichigo-

This Ichigo is one wrong twitch away from slaughtering everything in his path. Actually, he already has, if the bodies are anything to go by, but if Kisuke wants to mitigate this disaster somehow…

 _Mitigate what?_ A voice hisses in his mind. _You didn’t find Ichigo to mitigate anything, did you?_

Ichigo takes another step, and another, until he’s only a foot away. He’s in his Shihakushou but there are darker patches here and there, soaked through with blood. Flecks of it dot the line of his jaw, and there are streaks of black in his orange hair, vaguely reminiscent of his transformation when he faced off against Aizen except Kisuke’s fairly sure that’s not what’s going on right now, if only because of his Zanpakutou.

Kisuke’s lost track of how many times Ichigo’s powers and their physical manifestations have changed, but today, his Zanpakutou is a single slender dagger, lightweight and relatively small and just long enough for everything from slitting throats to disembowelment.

It doesn’t look quite solid though, metal one moment, shadows the next. Always black though, just like the streaks in his hair, as if so much of his reiatsu has leaked out that it’s saturated everything like ink on paper.

Kisuke looks again at Ichigo’s face, at his eyes, not even red-rimmed, no sign of tears or even grief, just that terrible empty abyss constructed of a darkness so deep it feels like it could devour the heavens whole.

“Why.”

It’s not really a question. It comes out too flat for that. But Ichigo wants to know, as much as he seems to want anything right now, and Kisuke can’t deny him, even if it might end with a knife in his gut.

“I suspect the were scared,” Kisuke confesses. “They always were, afraid of you, especially Central 46. There was- There was talk, especially after you defeated Aizen, but you were losing your powers anyway so no action was taken. The Soutaichou agreed to help though, when I asked, and he didn’t ask permission first. He agreed on the spot. So you got your powers back, and then you took down Yhwach when even Yamamoto-soutaichou couldn’t. You became even more of a threat so-”

He falters, suppressing a shudder under the frozen burning gaze Ichigo’s levelled on him, and then he forces himself to recite the orders Yoruichi told him, “‘Order 66: All non-Shinigami persons with knowledge of the Spirit World are to be exterminated in order to maintain the balance of souls and prevent further interference and violations of the law by outside parties. Spare none. Leave no evidence behind.’ Execution was authorized. The Sōkyoku wasn’t the only way to permanently destroy a soul, and they didn’t- they didn’t want to chance any of your souls - especially yours - remembering everything once you reached Soul Society. Safer to simply remove you all from the reincarnation cycle.”

Kisuke finishes, and a deafening silence falls, only to break again when Ichigo asks in gravel-cracked tones, “That’s from Central 46? Or the Gotei?”

Kisuke hesitates.

(Last chance, he knows. Last chance to at least _try_.

But he thinks of blood-splattered walls and the bodies in the morgue and the dead expression in Ichigo’s eyes, and Benihime was right– he didn’t track Ichigo down to cover for the _government_.)

“Yes,” He answers. He flicks a look at the corpses behind Ichigo. “Those are Onmitsukidou officers. In this case, it would’ve been an order passed down from Central 46 to the Onmitsukidou Commander-in-Chief, along with the Kidou Corps Commander - their people are the ones who’ve set up the barriers around the town. Both branches have their own leaders but-” His hand tightens around his Zanpakutou. “-technically speaking, they are still ultimately under the command of the Soutaichou, so he would’ve had to know about the order. Central 46’s decisions are absolute but passing it along for the Soutaichou to sign off on it has always been a courtesy extended to the military’s Captain-Commander. Those are the main parties who would know. A captains’ meeting was called but only after the Onmitsukidou had already been dispatched-”

Kisuke cuts himself off as Ichigo lurches into motion again. For a second, he’s sure he’s about to get stabbed, but Ichigo only brushes past him, his reiatsu a roiling mass that seems to bear down on the entire town, clearly looking for any Shinigami he might have missed.

There aren’t any. Ichigo was thorough. Despite his preference for frontal attacks, he’s always been careful when it counted.

Ichigo keeps walking, not quite stumbling, too much of a fighter’s grace for that, but there’s an almost-hitch in his step that makes him look on the verge of collapse with every stride he takes. Like willpower’s the only thing keeping him upright now.

Kisuke hurries after him. “Ichigo, wait-”

And that apparently gets a reaction because he doesn’t even have time to blink before the dagger is at his throat.

“I’m going to say this once,” Ichigo bites out, and there’s something about his voice that reminds Kisuke of shattered glass. “If you get in my way, I don’t care who you are, I’ll cut your fucking head off just the same.”

Kisuke takes a breath, two, and then, only slightly unsteadily, “I know. Ichigo, I _know_. I was just going to say-”

(Some tiny part of him - the part that remembers growing up in the Shihouin Clan and being groomed by the Onmitsukidou, the part that remembers obedience and duty and selling his soul to the Gotei all those centuries ago - wonders even now if he’s really going to do this.

The much larger rest of him sneers at the fear and arrogance and betrayal after betrayal after betrayal, at a government’s pathetic refusal to tolerate anything outside of their influence, at an entire species’ thankless treachery.

The much larger rest of him seethes at the Shinigami’s sheer _gall_ , at this latest blow they’ve struck against their saviour, not even just killing Ichigo’s friends and family and performing Konsou to send them on to Soul Society but _destroying their souls_ , would’ve destroyed Ichigo too if they could’ve, and that part of Kisuke doesn’t give a damn about what he’s about to help unleash.)

“-that I have a way back into Soul Society,” Kisuke offers directly. “The Kuchiki Clan’s Senkaimon has probably been shut down by now. The government has a method of sealing off all access to the Dangai from within Seireitei. Kuchiki-taichou only just managed to get me out. But I made one of my own, after I was exiled, from here back into Soul Society. I can get you in a lot faster than you can find your own way there.”

Ichigo stares at him for a moment longer before the dagger is withdrawn. He says nothing but Kisuke nods anyway and leaps into the air. He doesn’t have to look back to know Ichigo is following.

 

* * *

 

They reach the shop within a few minutes. The place is silent, with all its occupants and guests gone. Most will never step foot in here again, and while Kisuke was never exactly _close_ with most of Ichigo’s friends, they were still… they were still fixtures in Kisuke’s life, people he’d gotten used to having around.

(People under his protection, in a way, and now they never would be again.

Except Ichigo, and however suffocating Ichigo’s reiatsu feels right now, however much it feels like despair, Kisuke can at least be grateful for that.)

“Through here,” He murmurs, leading Ichigo into his lab. The miniature Senkaimon is stashed in a closet and behind about a dozen seals. It’s a matter of minutes to undo them all before sending a pulse of his own reiatsu to activate it. “It needs a moment to charge up, but it will bypass the Dangai and jump straight through a hole in Seireitei’s defenses. It’ll come out in one of the Onmitsukidou’s bunkers underneath the Second Division headquarters.”

Ichigo is a statue by the door. The light that the Senkaimon is emitting reflects off his eyes and somehow makes the burn of the Hollow yellow even worse. He watches the Senkaimon gather power without any kind of emotion, still as stone and patient as time.

Kisuke leaves him to it, hurrying through to his bedroom instead and rifling through another closet where his clothes are stashed.

What he’s looking for is at the very back. He didn’t think he would ever have a reason to put it on again after he was forced to flee Soul Society.

By the time he returns to the lab, the Senkaimon is ready, and Ichigo is already standing in front of it, but he glances back when Kisuke steps back into the room. For the first time since Kisuke managed to catch up to him, something flickers across his face that makes him look just that bit more alive.

For a second, it seems as if he isn’t going to say anything at all, but then he rasps out, “What are you doing?”

Kisuke adjusts the dark sash around his waist, Benihime still sealed but back in her katana form instead of the shikomizue she became after he put down roots in the Human World. Rarely anyone carried around swords anymore even in the early 1900s, and Kisuke didn’t want to hole himself up in a warehouse day in and day out like the Visored, so changing his Zanpakutou’s sealed form into something more innocuous was the only option. But her black sheath blends in neatly with his uniform now, and he can sense how pleased she is that he’s no longer hiding her. Or himself for that matter.

“I’m coming with you, of course,” Kisuke replies, deftly tugging the headpiece over his head and up over the bottom of his face. It’s been almost a hundred and twenty years since he last took a mission for the Onmitsukidou but his movements are familiar and still come as easily as breathing to him.

He glances at Ichigo, who blinks once before his lips curl into a serrated mockery of a smile. “Afraid I’ll butcher your cat goddess if you’re not there to save her?”

“Yoruichi-san has always been perfectly capable of saving herself,” Kisuke says as calmly as he can. There’s a madness teetering in Ichigo’s eyes, and Kisuke has no desire to push him past that final line in the sand, the one Ichigo is still toeing, even now, and the only reason Kisuke himself isn’t dead. “But I know you won’t hurt her anyway. I swear to you she didn’t know. She would’ve told me sooner. So you won’t hurt her because she isn’t to blame for this. But I’m coming anyway because I won’t let you do this alone.”

Ichigo’s dagger jerks up, held in a white-knuckled grip, and for a moment, Kisuke’s absolutely certain he’s pushed too far anyway, without meaning to at all.

But all Ichigo does in the end is exhale a short caustic breath. “Do you even know what I’m going to _do_ to those-” His reiatsu lashes out, and the far wall disintegrates. His expression crumples into raw agony, and there’s the grief Kisuke was looking for earlier, strong enough to drown a man in the undertow.

He doesn’t flinch though. “Do give me some credit, Ichigo. I’d like to think I know you pretty well by now. So yes, I know, and yes, I’m coming.”

Ichigo’s reiatsu continues churning like a storm-tossed ocean but it doesn’t smash anything else, and a few seconds later, Ichigo turns jerkily back to the Senkaimon. “Whatever. Just don’t get in my way.”

He steps through the Senkaimon. Kisuke follows.

 

* * *

 

It takes about ten minutes for their presence to be noticed. Part of Kisuke inwardly despairs because that kind of response time is exactly why it sometimes feels like every person with a chip on their shoulder has zero problems taking a chunk out of Soul Society every time they turn around. Back in _his_ day, there was no way he or Yoruichi would’ve allowed such shoddy standards.

On the other hand…

There _were_ guards, technically. Even an empty bunker stocked only with necessities vital towards withstanding a siege is patrolled fairly regularly.

The evening patrol rounds a corner just as Kisuke and Ichigo step out into the hallway. There’s a split second of surprise. And then the weapons come out, one officer reaches for the alarm on the wall, and half a blink later, all three are dead on the ground, Ichigo prowling past them, his dagger dripping blood.

Kisuke says nothing and hurries after him.

They meet two more patrols who are felled more or less the same way. One of them leaps for Ichigo’s back while another locks blades with him.

Kisuke moves without really even thinking about it, severing the officer’s spine in less time than it takes Ichigo to bat his own opponent’s sword aside and sink his dagger into her heart.

They move on.

The alarm finally shrills when they’re climbing a flight of stairs. Ichigo pauses, one foot on the next step, head cocked.

“...Is that everywhere?” Ichigo asks roughly.

Kisuke nods curtly. “Onmitsukidou alarms don’t make noise, they just flash. That’s a city-wide intrusion alert, Code Red - all seated officers and up on standby, ready to mobilize.”

“Then there’s no need to hide anymore,” Ichigo murmurs, and Kisuke only has a second to digest what that means before he’s throwing himself aside and summoning a Kidou shield just as Ichigo _detonates_.

His reiatsu explodes in all directions but especially upward, straight through the ceiling and punching through multiple floors like a battering ram through rice paper. High up above the ground, the Second Division administration building sways, trembles, and finally - with a series of splintering cracks - begins to collapse in on itself.

There are shouts and screams, the alarm is still blaring, and by the time Kisuke lets his shield dissipate and boots a chunk of wall out of the way, there’s a haze of dust in the air, and Ichigo is gone.

Kisuke sighs. Well, if Ichigo wants to do it this way, he supposes it’s time to make his own allegiance clear.

He stares down at his Zanpakutou for just a moment longer, feeling the pulse of Benihime’s bloodthirsty anticipation, and then he straightens.

“Awaken, Benihime!”

By night’s end, Seireitei will never be the same again.

Kisuke can’t say he’ll regret it.

 

* * *

 

There’s a strange roaring sound in his ears, and Ichigo’s pretty sure it’s not Zangetsu this time. His Zanpakutou spirit’s been pretty quiet since they woke up with Ichigo’s dead body on the floor, three Shinigami around him, and Karin and Yuzu-

Stop.

He can’t think about that, because every time he does, something inside him feels like it might tear him apart, and he can’t afford that right now. Every breath he takes feels like an accusation - _Why are you alive? Why do you get to live when they don’t? When your_ sisters _don’t?_ \- but he can’t- he can’t succumb to that, can’t break down and grieve and possibly lie down and close his eyes and never wake up again. Not yet.

Because how dare they? What right do these Shinigami have, slaughtering his friends and family without even giving them a chance to _reincarnate_. _How dare they?_ Ichigo’s been their ally since he got Rukia off death row. He’s never failed to throw himself headlong into crisis after crisis, not always for them, mostly to protect someone he cared about who was in danger at the time, but he’s always lent a hand when the Shinigami needed it, and so did his friends. Even _Ishida_ for fuck’s sake, whose grandfather was tortured and dissected and ultimately killed for one of the Gotei’s _vaunted captains’_ own twisted glee, and said captain never even got so much as a slap on the wrist for it.

On hindsight, maybe Ichigo should’ve seen this coming a long time ago.

And now...

Now there’s nothing Ichigo can do to bring them back. Even he knows he can’t save them. Their very souls have been _removed from existence_ , and that’s not something anyone can come back from. Not something even Ichigo - no matter how powerful he is - can fix.

But he’s still alive. So used to jumping in and out of his body already that he wasn’t disoriented at all when that Onmitsukidou officer stabbed him from behind, which allowed him to dodge the next blow, an innocuous-looking blade with complicated seals inscribed on it, one that melted to a useless lump of metal after Ichigo caught a glimpse of his sisters’ bodies, his _thirteen-year-old sisters_ , lying face down in a pool of blood just as two more Shinigami stabbed their spirit forms with the same weapons.

Ichigo thinks he lost his mind a little in that moment. By the time he regained some semblance of awareness, half his house was scorched beyond repair, and he had three more murders to his name.

What was a couple dozen more after that? A couple hundred?

(He went looking for his friends next, he did. Dragged himself away from his sisters’ corpses and ran, hoping he might make it in time. But every house he stopped at was already painted red, and Ichigo had no more reasons to hold back after that.)

He’s always had this in him, he thinks. The capacity for murder. He started killing at the age of fifteen, and nobody ever seemed to find it odd that it never really bothered him. Sure, low-level Hollows were monsters, without much of a brain beyond the desire to eat, and hunting them might be considered the same as hunting game. But he killed Arrancar too, later, killed Ulquiorra, and they were far more human than regular Hollows, with human intelligence. He was even prepared to kill Aizen. He _did_ kill Ginjou. And of course there was Yhwach.

Murder is not new to him, nor is it a problem for him. And the Shinigami are about to realize just how far that detachment goes, because Ichigo is alive when he shouldn’t be, and he can’t save his friends and family anymore but he can sure as hell avenge them.

Even if it means purging Soul Society.

Besides, Ichigo knows that if he doesn’t do anything about it, it’ll just happen again. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even in another ten years. But sooner or later, some poor fuck and everyone they love will get caught up in the Shinigami’s messes and taken advantage of until their potential threat outweighs their usefulness before ultimately getting stabbed in the back for it.

Ichigo won’t let that happen. Even if he has to drown this city in blood to prevent it.

“Kurosaki!” Someone yells just as he finishes ripping open one attacking Shinigami’s stomach and almost bisecting another from hip to shoulder. They both fall out of the sky with little fanfare, and Ichigo turns from them and lashes out with his Zanpakutou, a daitō now rather than a mere dagger, to meet the cumbersome swing of an oversized spiked ball.

There’s a fraction of a second of resistance. And then, in front of the Second Division lieutenant’s furious, horrified eyes, Ichigo’s sword slices clean through the man’s Zanpakutou and shatters both parts to pieces.

It’s an echo of their first brief encounter, back when Ichigo put a fist through this same weapon, but… Okita? Onoda? Whatever the guy’s name is, he doesn’t seem to remember, or if he does, he seems to think he would have better luck this time around.

“Kurosaki! Stand down!” He demands, as if he has any right to tell Ichigo what to do. He’s Second Division, Onmitsukidou, he has to know what his branch of the military is guilty of, and even if he doesn’t…

It isn’t as if Ichigo has any reason not to kill him. He’s a Shinigami, a part of the problem, grown lazy and fat - literally for this one - on their power and even worse on their pride.

“What do you think you’re doing, invading Soul Society again?!” The man continues ranting, although he has at least enough self-preservation to back away a few feet. Not enough to flee entirely though. And not that that would’ve saved him. “Taichou was right - we shouldn’t have given you back your pow-”

Between one breath and the next, Ichigo’s covered the distance between them, slamming an open palm into the lieutenant’s chest just hard enough to break several ribs even as Zangetsu angles for his throat-

The man’s squinty eyes go wide with terror, but they also flicker over Ichigo’s shoulder for just a moment, and he’s already turning when something pings at the edge of Ichigo’s senses and a flicker of gold flashes in his peripheral.

_Distraction. Suì-Fēng. Won’t dodge in time. But it’s a two-hit kill. First hit doesn’t matter._

It doesn’t matter, but as it turns out, it’s not just because Ichigo won’t allow a second blow.

A lance of red energy darts between Ichigo’s half-turned back and Suì-Fēng’s incoming attack, forcing her to veer to one side. Half a blink later, she’s choking on a scream and clutching her stump of an elbow as blood gushes and her Zanpakutou - still attached to her severed arm - plummets to the ground below.

She still has enough wits about her to Shunpo out of the way just as a familiar blond appears behind her, his Zanpakutou swinging down for a second strike that would’ve cleaved her in two had she been even just a quarter of a second slower.

“Taichou!” The lieutenant shouts, taking a step in her direction. “You bastard! How dare you- _gkh-!_ ”

It’s the last thing he ever says as Ichigo’s blade enters his throat from one side and comes out the other. Ichigo yanks it out again a moment later and doesn’t bother watching him fall too.

Suì-Fēng already looks incensed so it’s difficult to figure out if she feels anything as she stares after her lieutenant for a second before returning her glare to Ichigo - briefly - and then settling on Kisuke. “You _traitor!_ ”

Kisuke’s pushed the headpiece of his uniform down so that it’s pooled around his neck now. He watches Suì-Fēng with an unreadable look on his face, equal parts impassive and sharp and not quite cold but _distant_ , as if her accusation is about as interesting to him as a passing insect would be. And then he glances at Ichigo, and all of that softens to something steady and sure.

Ichigo stumbled his way to Kisuke’s shop after realizing that his sisters and friends and even father were all dead. He was terrified that the assassins had somehow gotten the drop on the shopkeeper too because in his mind, that was the only possible reason Kisuke wasn’t already helping Ichigo with this latest mess. He even hoped - for a few blissful minutes - that maybe the bodies were fake or at least their soul-selves were safe and Kisuke had already whisked them all away, out of the Shinigami’s reach, and was just waiting for Ichigo to catch up.

Because that’s what the two of them did. Kisuke spun insane and borderline suicidal plans out of that mind of his and Ichigo made sure they worked; Kisuke protected them from the shadows and Ichigo handled the flashy powerful assaults that came at them from the front; Kisuke covered for the details that Ichigo might overlook while Ichigo went on ahead to ensure that any enemy - no matter how powerful - would be put down hard before they did permanent damage.

So even if Kisuke was held up, stuck in his own battle for his life and couldn’t come to anyone else’s aid on time, that’s not on him, and he would at least still be alive for Ichigo to protect and to anchor himself to so that he wouldn’t lose himself to the feral madness threatening to overwhelm him.

He never, not for a second, expected to arrive at the shop to find it empty. No discarded Gigai, no Shinigami officers, but no Kisuke or even Yoruichi or Tessai or the kids either.

His first thought was that they must have been abducted.

But there was no sign of a struggle, and Ichigo couldn’t believe there was any universe out there where someone could take Kisuke out without so much as knocking down a wall.

The betrayal came last, slow and inexorable and terrible, cutting through the confusion and worry and disbelief.

Cutting through the grief.

He lost time after that. His world narrowed down to the pulses of intrusive energy he could feel all over his hometown, and something in him snapped.

The next thing he knew, he was elbow-deep in a Shinigami’s chest cavity - the remains of a cero spitting angrily in his blood-slick palm - and beheading another one barrelling towards him from the right. Some detached part of him told him he should probably stop. The rest of him didn’t care, and he didn’t stop until he’d hunted down every last one of the Shinigami invading his town.

And then Kisuke was there, standing at the mouth of that alley, looking harried and tense and just a touch frightened. He barely gave the bodies a glance, wholly focused on Ichigo, arms at his side, open and vulnerable in a way Ichigo has rarely seen, and Ichigo-

Ichigo won’t lie. His first instinct was to attack, to kill, to rip that backstabbing puppetmaster of a man apart because _how dare he show his face when he let the Shinigami do this to them?_

But something in him stalled, something in him said _wait_ , and something in him listened, just long enough to give Kisuke a chance to explain.

Maybe it was because Kisuke was there, however late. He didn’t have to come. If he’d really sold them out to the government, didn’t tell them about the execution order and deliberately vanished when Ichigo needed him, he wouldn’t have bothered turning up and giving Ichigo a chance to kill him.

But he did, he came, sword still sealed, no hat in sight, the patchwork scars on his face somehow more like tears in that one moment than ever before, altogether practically the equivalent of rolling belly-up in front of a predator.

Ichigo doesn’t think it ever occurred to him that Kisuke might be lying. The shopkeeper explained, and Ichigo believed him. Anybody else would probably tell him that trusting an ex-assassin who all but orchestrated the first fifteen years of Ichigo’s life in order to mould him into the perfect weapon against Aizen is the height of foolishness, but…

It was never spoken out loud, but it was implied, after Aizen, perhaps even as far back as after Rukia but especially after regaining the missing parts of his soul - Kisuke would never lie to Ichigo again, would never keep anything from him again, not about anything important.

Ichigo’s trusted that, and Kisuke’s never let him down. And despite those several hazy hours filled with nothing but dogged bitter determination to make everyone involved pay for what they did, he apparently still trusted Kisuke enough to not gut him on the spot.

And still cared about him enough to walk away, because at that point, Ichigo didn’t trust _himself_ not to attack anyway if Kisuke said the wrong thing at the wrong time or tried to stop what he was setting out to do.

Except-

Kisuke didn’t. Didn’t stop him. Didn’t even try, and Ichigo doubted it was solely down to the way he threatened him a bit. Instead, the man offered to help, offered an easier way to accomplish his goal, just as he’s always done, and then even offered to come with him.

Kisuke wasn’t stupid, and Ichigo made no attempt to hide it either. They both knew exactly what was going to happen to Soul Society when Ichigo got there, with or without Kisuke’s aid. And yet-

_“I won’t let you do this alone.”_

And now here they are, the Second Division compound a smoking ruin below them, most of an entire squad dead, fresh blood on both their Zanpakutou, and Kisuke by his side, still watching him with something steadfast and grimly resolute, something Ichigo can’t - _won’t_ \- put a name to.

“Ichigo,” Kisuke calls out, just loud enough to be heard over the alarm still echoing throughout Seireitei. “I believe Suì-Fēng-san here was only following orders. Perhaps you could refrain from wasting your time on her?”

Ichigo blinks at him, once, almost sluggishly. That funny roaring sound in his ears has died to a staticky background noise in his head. His thoughts don’t feel as fuzzy but there’s something in him that’s still on the verge of falling apart, and he can’t do that yet.

_Suì-Fēng. Onmitsukidou Commander-in-Chief. She gave the order to her officers, to come after us. After my **sisters**. She has to pay. How can Kisuke ask me that? Just because she’s Yoruichi’s favourite? I thought he understood-_

“Allow me to take care of her,” Kisuke continues, serenely disregarding the sudden hitch of Suì-Fēng’s shoulders even as the grey of his eyes flash like bared steel. “Central 46 may not be much of a problem but the Soutaichou will probably require all your attention.”

 _Save your strength_ , Ichigo hears even if Kisuke doesn’t say. _You can leave her to me. I won’t fail you._

A part of him howls, wants to refuse, wants to throw himself at Suì-Fēng and drown them both in the blood he’ll spill. And yet-

Ichigo sucks in a breath that catches in his lungs, feels a little more of himself crumble even while something holds him together, for just a little while longer. He breathes again, and once more, and then nods, a jerky motion of his head that pulls at a cut someone left along the back of his neck. He can’t even remember the face of the one who did it, only that they died at his hands.

“Okay,” He croaks out and makes himself turn away. He’s never liked Suì-Fēng, and he knows she’s never liked him either, but he always thought she was grudgingly content to turn a blind eye to his actions, with a threat thrown in every so often whenever someone invades or rebels and Ichigo ends up doing things his own way again.

He should’ve known better. He should’ve known a lot of things better.

But Kisuke’s as good as promised him her death. And Ichigo… Ichigo will trust that too.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Suì-Fēng barks just as Ichigo flashes away. He hears the clang of metal against metal, and then he’s gone, racing over Soul Society even as he submerges himself once more in instinct and rage and a frozen sort of grief that’s been growing in him ever since he realized there was nothing but vengeance left to live for.

The static noise takes over. Ichigo likes it better like this. Everything feels _less_ , and that’s all he cares about.

That, and the splashes of red he leaves behind as he tears through the monochrome city that he swears he’ll bring to its knees, one way or another.

 

* * *

 

Onmitsukidou officers never carry less than three blades on them, and Kisuke supposes it’s good to know that that at least hasn’t changed.

“You bastard!” Suì-Fēng snarls as Kisuke meets the dagger she was aiming at Ichigo’s back and deflects it hard enough to make her stagger. She’s cauterized her elbow with a Kidou spell, and normally, Kisuke might even commend her for her pain tolerance.

Now he just enquires blandly, “Have you really so little honour that you would go after a man who has near single-handedly and more than once saved Soul Society when the Gotei could not?”

“ _You’re_ lecturing me about honour?” The incredulity in Suì-Fēng’s voice would’ve been comical if it didn’t come with an equal amount of contempt. “I’m not the one betraying everything we stand for and making a mockery of our laws!”

“Everything _you_ stand for,” Kisuke murmurs. “And _your_ laws, I believe.”

“Central 46 was gracious enough to pardon you!” Suì-Fēng snaps back. “Your first loyalty should be to the government! To your _duty!_ You should be grateful, and yet you spit on their leniency by doing this?”

“Siding with someone we all owe our lives to?”

“Siding with an enemy of Soul Society! We should’ve dealt with them the first chance we had! Kurosaki and his friends did whatever they wanted with no respect for tradition or protocol. His first act against us was breaking into our city and causing mass destruction everywhere, all for the sake of a personal goal. He was a threat back then, and he’s only proving us right with his rampage now-”

“You killed his sisters,” Kisuke cuts her off, voice pitched dangerously low in a way that shuts even Suì-Fēng up, however briefly. “Not even just him. Not even just his friends. His sisters barely knew anything of our world. One of them couldn’t even see us properly. They were thirteen-years-old. What was their crime?”

Suì-Fēng sneers at him, eyes like chips of stone, and not for the first time, Kisuke wonders what exactly it was that Yoruichi loved about this woman.

“Better to get rid of them all at once than leave them to become a threat later on,” Suì-Fēng declares. Her sneer deepens, and her eyes glitter with something malicious. “Don’t pretend you care. Do you think you’re somehow better than us? You were part of the Gotei 13 too. Even Onmitsukidou, however disrespectful and undisciplined you were. And I’ve read some of your mission files. You carried out the same kinds of orders as this one to uphold the laws of Soul Society! That’s what you should still be doing if you want to redeem yourself for your failure to stop Aizen the first time and your fooling around with the Hogyoku, not help a loose cannon who threatens the very foundations of our world!”

Kisuke almost laughs at that, and some of that mirth must show on his face anyway because Suì-Fēng’s eyes immediately narrow. “Redeem myself? Suì-Fēng-san, I can admit that I have done quite a few things over the course of my life that I have come to regret - Aizen among them, yes - but I can live with that, and with quite a few other regrets as well. I have no need to seek redemption for what I’ve already made my peace with, and even if I did, serving Central 46 would only add to my mistakes.”

“They pardoned you! They gave you another chance!”

“They saw another chance to make use of me,” Kisuke corrects her coolly. “And the things they would use me for-”

“For the good of Soul Society! You know that! You’ve _done_ that!”

“-are not things I am willing to do again, not for them, and not for their Soul Society.” Kisuke smiles pleasantly at her, and that of all things makes her flinch, just a little. “I don’t need another chance from them, nor have I any desire to redeem myself in their eyes. There is only one crime I have ever apologized for, and Ichigo has forgiven me for it. That is the only piece of redemption I will ever need.”

Suì-Fēng’s features go hard and cold. “Then you will be eliminated along with Kurosaki.”

Kisuke does laugh this time, and he lets mockery gild the sound. “Oh you may certainly try, Suì-Fēng-san.”

If Suì-Fēng could breathe fire, she would. As it is, she only levels her blade at him and spits out, “Yoruichi-sama would be disappointed in you. Not that that ever seemed to mean anything to you.”

Kisuke directs an utterly droll look at her. “My dear girl,” Suì-Fēng looks enraged. “Look around you. Do you see Yoruichi-san anywhere? Her former Division has collapsed. Her former protégé is here. So where is she? And where are all the Shihouin members in your squad?”

Suì-Fēng goes still in the next moment. She doesn’t quite turn to look but something in her features flickers like a sputtering candle. “...Yoruichi-sama must be busy elsewhere. She was not informed of Order 66. She isn’t _dead_.”

“No,” Kisuke agrees. “But you kept it from her for a reason, and not just because Central 46 told you to. You already know why.”

Suì-Fēng glares, and her remaining hand curls white-knuckled around the grip of her dagger. “Yoruichi-sama would never betray the Gotei 13!”

“She’s done it once already.”

“For you!” She snarls, and there’s the jealousy that hasn’t faded one iota even after all these decades. “Because she has a soft spot for a traitorous piece of trash like you! But she barely knows Kurosaki! She wouldn’t betray us for him!”

“Probably not solely for him,” Kisuke acknowledges. “But for me, she would.”

Suì-Fēng looks wholly confused for a moment, and that’s when Kisuke strikes. Benihime whistles through the air even as crimson reiatsu leaps from his Zanpakutou, and as fast as Suì-Fēng throws herself out of the way, it isn’t fast enough to shake Kisuke off her tail.

Yoruichi may be the Flash Goddess, but Kisuke has always been one of the few people capable of keeping up with her in a fast-paced game of tag.

“Yoruichi-san is smart,” Kisuke says almost conversationally as he disappears and reappears behind Suì-Fēng, Benihime lunging forward slicing open a deep gash along the captain’s remaining arm. “Smart enough to grab all her clansmen and return to Shihouin grounds and batten down the hatches to wait this particular storm out.” Suì-Fēng flash-steps again, then again, teeth gritted, lashing out with her blade. Kisuke simply dodges, twists into a Shunpo of his own, and reappears directly in front of her, his gaze avid on her face, her eyes, every micro-nuance of her expression as he delivers his final blow, “She didn’t grab you though. Not that I’m surprised. You never did understand, the things Yoruichi-san cared about most and the things she was willing to give up for them, and so in the end, it’s only natural that she finally gave up on you.”

Kisuke watches something in Suì-Fēng shatter, a second before Benihime runs her through, and as she chokes on a throatful of blood, he watches the light leave her eyes as well.

He shakes his blade loose only when she’s well and truly dead. He doesn’t wait for her to hit the ground before he turns, feeling for Ichigo’s reiatsu signature, and takes off after him.

 

* * *

 

Ichigo’s not quite sure which compound he’s laying waste to. Even after years of intermittently coming and going from Soul Society, the layout of the capital still gets him turned around sometimes, especially when he’s not paying attention. But Shinigami converged on him from inside this one, and within minutes, there are bodies littering the ground, and a single Getsuga Tenshou was enough to topple the nearby barracks.

Nobody’s rushing at him at the moment. They seem to have grown more cautious after his kill count reached… he’s not quite sure. A lot.

He thinks some more and a memory comes back to him. Someone vaguely familiar in a captain’s haori, charging at him from behind even as a wolf leapt at him from the front. So maybe this is the Seventh? He can’t for the life of him remember the name or the face of the Seventh Division lieutenant-turned-captain but he heard from someone that the former captain was transformed into a wolf or something.

It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s killed both of them, and their compound burns below. Time to move on.

Things get fuzzy again. He was hoping to reach the First Division - the Second should be close to the First - but he must have gone in the wrong direction, and he knows that the compounds aren’t built entirely in numerical order.

He only slows again when he hears someone shout his name.

He turns. Someone is flash-stepping towards him. Not anything he can’t follow. Not anything he can’t kill.

He blinks, and his brain finally registers who it is.

“Ichigo!” Rukia shouts again, anxious and horrified and angry in turn as she rushes up to him. “What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?!” She swallows and looks faintly sick. “I- I know what happened but- but this isn’t the way to deal with it! You can’t-”

He tunes her out. Not even really meaning to, but he wonders distantly if he could kill her if she tries to stop him, and he thinks to himself, _yes, I could_.

(Because she knew what happened. So why didn’t she come help him? Ichigo tore through entire dimensions when she was in trouble. Why didn’t she do the same for him?

Why did he expect she would?)

“Ichigo, are you listening to me?”

He opens his mouth to respond, only to close it again when another reiatsu signature hurtles towards him at far more dangerous speeds than Rukia did. No, not quite towards him, and that’s the only reason Ichigo doesn’t meet it with his sword.

A blur of black and white darts past him and comes to an abrupt halt beside Rukia. One pale hand reaches out and shoves her back a step even as Byakuya turns to meet Ichigo’s gaze head-on.

“Nii-sama!”

“Rukia! Taichou!” Someone else yells almost simultaneously, and a moment later, Renji appears, looking slightly dishevelled. His eyes land on Ichigo, and his mouth opens to say something, but Byakuya skewers him with a look so sharp that it silences him in an instant.

There’s a few seconds of tension-high silence. Ichigo stares blankly at Byakuya, and Byakuya stares back, studying him carefully but - for some reason - not with anything like _threat_. Wariness, yes, and ready to defend if necessary, but not as if he’s about to attack.

And then he speaks, every word quiet and measured, eyes never wavering from Ichigo’s face, “I helped Urahara Kisuke back into the Human World.” Two pairs of eyes go wide with surprise behind him. “I have no intention of stopping you now. And I owe you debts, for my sister at least twice over and for Kuchiki Kouga. If you give me your word, Kurosaki Ichigo, that you will leave the Sixth Division, the Thirteenth Division, and the Kuchiki Clan alone, I swear on my honour that I will not interfere, nor will I allow my clan or either Division to interfere either.”

Byakuya’s never exactly been the most expressive person in the world, but Ichigo can’t sense a lie from him. He has his Zanpakutou drawn but it’s still sealed, and he’s made no attempt to actually use it.

And he did help Kisuke. Kisuke already confirmed it. No other captain did, or at the very least, Byakuya was first, and that’s-

Ichigo’s thought about it before, after the reports came in and Rukia mentioned it to him in passing later, though he’s never asked why. Why - out of everyone Tsukishima turned against Ichigo - it was Byakuya who accepted Ichigo’s word as truth on faith alone and defeated Tsukishima anyway despite his mind being tampered with.

So of course he’s wondered, when his word became something someone like Byakuya would trust even in the face of the most believable lie.

And that’s-

That reminder is enough.

He takes a breath, reels back in the parts of him that feel like they’re scattering again, and nods stiltedly. “Just stay out of my way.”

Byakuya inclines his head. He still has an iron grip on Rukia’s arm.

Ichigo takes off again. They do not pursue.

 

* * *

 

(“Nii-sama!” Rukia exclaims, looking stressed in a way that even her new captaincy couldn’t inflict on her. “Are we really going to just let him go?”

Byakuya glances at her, and she can’t quite read the expression on his face. “Are you suggesting we attempt to stop him? Or arrest him? Kill him? After what they- After what _we_ have done?”

Rukia flinches but doesn’t back down. “Of course not! But they’ll kill _him_. He’s already killed so many- We should talk him down, make him stop, before the Soutaichou-!”

“If I were to put money down on the result of that battle,” Byakuya says, as grim as his words are uncharacteristic. “It would not be on the Soutaichou.”

Rukia shifts her weight from foot to foot uneasily. “And we’re just going to… let him?”

Something in her brother’s eyes darkens, turning them cold in a way Rukia hasn’t seen in a very long time. Not since Ichigo came into their lives.

“They have not killed his sisters, Rukia. They have _executed_ them. Do you understand? They managed to do to Kurosaki Ichigo’s sisters what they did not manage to do to you.” Rukia turns three shades paler at the reminder. Renji grimaces beside her. “And we could not prevent it.”

Rukia stares. She wonders if it was just her imagination - the unspoken **_I_** _could not prevent it_ in her brother’s words.

Her hands ball into fists. She thinks of Inoue, Sado, even Ishida. Of those other humans she didn’t know as well. And of Karin and Yuzu.

They were just _kids_.

“Now,” Byakuya interrupts her thoughts, and his gaze is piercing as he turns to regard her. “Will you return to your Division and bar the gates and keep your subordinates under control, or must I keep you in the clan compound under lockdown?”

Rukia flushes a little and draws herself up. “I’m their captain. I have to be there, even if we’re not going to- I’ll keep everyone inside.”

Byakuya searches her face for a moment before nodding and finally letting her go. “Quickly then.” He turns to his lieutenant. “Come, Renji. All Sixth Division Shinigami are back inside the compound?”

“Yeah, Taichou,” Renji says readily. He gives Rukia a terse nod before moving to follow his captain.

Rukia turns towards the direction of her own Division, but before she Shunpos away, she hears Renji ask, almost hesitantly, “Taichou, I’m not saying he- he doesn’t have the _right_ , but… how do we know Ichigo will stop? He didn’t seem… in his right mind.”

She pauses, listening for her brother’s reply.

“He gave his word.”

“...”

“Kurosaki Ichigo has never broken his word. I will trust that to stop him when his honour is satisfied.”

Rukia closes her eyes for a moment. And then she opens them again and flash-steps away.

If even her brother can trust Ichigo in this situation, then she has no right not to. If that means throwing half the organization under the bus, well, it isn’t as if she has a great love for most of them anyway. She has- _had_ more human friends than Shinigami ones, Renji and Nii-sama will be okay, and she’ll make sure her squad is fine. Those are the most important things to her.

Besides, the people who decided it was _okay_ to do this to Ichigo, to do this to _anyone_ , and attack him even now…

They _deserve_ what’s coming to them.)

 

* * *

 

Ichigo bumps into Kensei next. Well, next after cutting through a couple dozen more Shinigami trying to ambush him, like they think they even _can_. Mashiro is for once a subdued shadow behind him while Hisagi stares from Ichigo to the plumes of smoke rising all over the city and back to Ichigo. His hand is on his Zanpakutou but he looks to Kensei for instruction. His expression is equal parts apprehensive and bleak.

Whatever Kensei has to say, he doesn’t get to say it. He manages to bark, “Ichigo, you-” right before Shinji appears out of nowhere and practically tackles him out of the air and back into his compound, where the two captains begin rolling around, wrestling to get the upper hand, cussing up a storm in-between a hissed conversation that Ichigo can’t hear and isn’t particularly interested in either.

“Ichigo.”

Ichigo glances to the right. Lisa hovers there, stern-faced as usual, although there’s something like anguish in the crease of her brow. She’s not wearing her captain’s haori.

(They celebrated, just a month ago, with the other Visored and Ichigo and his friends and the shop’s usual occupants. Lisa pretended not to care but they all had fun that day.)

“The Soutaichou,” She begins without beating around the bush. “Signed off on the order because in exchange for this going through, the Visored would be spared.”

Ichigo stares vacantly at her. Lisa releases a short breath that could’ve been a laugh if not for the bitter, almost betrayed, set of her mouth. She turns her back.

“He’s not the man I thought I knew. Do what you want with him. You’ll still have the Visored when this is over.”

And then she’s gone.

Ichigo looks at Kensei and Shinji still tussling down below. He looks at Mashiro, who nods solemnly, and Hisagi, who doesn’t but makes no move towards him either.

Ichigo leaves.

 

* * *

 

He stumbles on the Central 46 Chambers first. The doors are locked, and the seals are fully activated. Ichigo almost laughs at the absurdity.

There’s a rush of displaced air, and then Kisuke is suddenly there. The man looks at him, touches his fingers briefly to Ichigo’s arm, and then turns to the doors.

The seals fail in less than five minutes. The assembly hall is empty, and another set of doors further in practically vibrate with how much power their defensive seals are giving off.

Kisuke breaks through those in only a little more time than the front doors took. And then he steps aside and studies Ichigo’s face again for a moment before sweeping out an arm and bowing a little.

The entrance to Central 46’s precious Seijōtōkyorin swings open. There are shouts. There are screams. What looks like half an army’s worth of guards launch themselves at Ichigo.

None of them make it out alive. The few who sneak past Ichigo meet Kisuke at the doors.

Seijōtōkyorin dies begging, and Ichigo wonders if it’ll ever be enough.

So of course, that’s when Kyouraku Shunsui appears.

 

* * *

 

Later, Ichigo thinks of the way Kyouraku surveyed the blood and the bodies with something as tired as it was resigned. He thinks of the way one of the strongest captains - possibly the strongest - of the Gotei 13 only tracked him down after the entire judiciary organization was slaughtered to a man.

(Aizen would be proud.)

He thinks of the way Kyouraku didn’t try to explain, didn’t make excuses, didn’t ask for mercy or a ceasefire. He had neither sakkat nor that pink kimono on him. His Zanpakutou was already unsealed.

He waited only long enough for Ichigo to see him and turn and face him, waited too for Ichigo to jerk his head at Kisuke, who lingered for a long minute before finally Shunpoing away.

And then they fought, and the world dissolved into shadows and reiatsu and madness and blood.

So much blood.

Ichigo looks at the man now. Or what’s left of him. Their surroundings have been reduced to rubble, and Kyouraku’s body is slumped next to the remains of a pillar, his Zanpakutou lying in broken pieces around him.

Ichigo stares at him - it? - until quiet footsteps pick their way to his side, and pale hands enter his line of vision.

“You’re bleeding pretty badly,” Kisuke says softly as he kneels down next to where Ichigo is half-sprawled on the broken steps. “Let me heal you.”

Ichigo rasps out a sound that was almost halfway amused. “What’s the point?”

“The point is you’re still alive,” Kisuke tells him even as his hands begin to glow green. “And I would very much like to keep it that way.”

Ichigo makes another sound, and he hates the way it sounds like a sob this time. The hands hovering about his stomach wound shifts to squeeze his hand for a moment before resuming their task.

He finally looks at Kisuke. The man’s seen better days, that’s for certain. His hair is dusty, and there are dried bloodstains on his uniform, so much of it that even the black can’t hide it anymore. There’s a gash that runs diagonally across one of the scars on his face, and the right shoulder of his uniform is in tattered pieces, with the flesh underneath burnt almost black.

“You-” Ichigo almost reaches out, but one of his arms is broken and the other is shaking badly enough that he can’t lift it more than half a foot off the ground.

“I’ll be fine,” Kisuke assures, tipping a small but reassuring smile at him. “I miscalculated how… inventive Kurotsuchi-san could be with explosives. Rest assured, he won’t be inventing anything ever again. And it looks worse than it is.”

Ichigo can’t help snorting. Kisuke’s smile widens briefly, and he compromises, “I’ll heal myself once I’m done with you.”

Ichigo blinks at that, and then sighs, long and exhausted. “What’s the point,” He repeats faintly, and this time he’s not sure who he’s asking. “I’m dead. Just… send me on-”

“No.”

Ichigo slowly lifts his gaze to Kisuke again. Kisuke, who stares back, silver-eyed and fierce in a way Ichigo’s rarely seen before.

“I would do anything for you, Ichigo,” The man tells him. “Anything but that.”

The healing Kidou dims for a moment, and Ichigo sits very still as one hand cups the curve of his jaw, fingers splayed almost possessively over his cheek.

(It would’ve hurt - when Ichigo thought Kisuke betrayed him - if the man was only a friend. But it was ten times worse after all the companionable dinners they’ve eaten and the competitive spars they’ve fought and all the everyday dances they’ve shared, circling around something that’s been building from the moment Ichigo’s soul was whole again and Kisuke kept inviting him over to the shop, even when there was no crisis to solve.)

Fingertips brush through his hair before Kisuke returns to healing him. Ichigo watches his injuries stitch themselves together for a long while before finally whispering, “What am I even supposed to do now?”

 

* * *

 

At least he’s thinking about it now, Kisuke thinks with a cautious sense of relief. Better than the suicidal rampage he was on before.

“Well,” Kisuke keeps his voice light even as he inwardly worries about the state of Ichigo’s half-shattered ribcage. Kyouraku certainly did a number on it. “You’ve culled a good third of the military, and half the government is gone. We could start there.”

“...Start?” The single word is dark with a loathing that almost surprises Kisuke. But then, Ichigo’s darkness has never exactly been subtle, and Kisuke’s never been afraid of it.

“Fix it,” He expounds. “Or reshape it. Rebuild it from the ground up. The Shinigami have grown stagnant; Aizen was correct about that much. No better time than the present for us to create something better from the ashes.”

“...’Us’?”

Kisuke glances up to meet familiar brown eyes, and he arches an eyebrow admonishingly. “I’ve come this far with you. I’ve never created a government before but I hope you don’t believe I wouldn’t help you if it’s what you decide to do.”

Ichigo scoffs wearily, chin dipping to his chest for a moment. “It’s not like I know how either.”

“But we can figure it out,” Kisuke persists, hesitating only for a single heartbeat before forging on, “And we can make sure nothing like this ever happens again. We can make sure what we build won’t ever order something like this again.”

For a moment, Kisuke is close enough to feel Ichigo stop breathing. It’s not good for his damaged respiratory system so he quickly concentrates his Kidou there.

“...Why?” Ichigo asks, not quite a whisper but low enough that Kisuke almost has to strain his ears to hear. “You’re not- It would be a lot of work. Hard work, boring work, and political stuff that I _know_ you’re not interested in. It would be… messy and tedious and it won’t- it won’t _always_ be better just because we want it to be, if only because there’ll be other people who _won’t_ want it.”

“But we’ll be there to fix it or fight it when that happens,” Kisuke counters calmly. “And we’re not alone. You still have other people loyal to you, who would help.”

Ichigo’s mouth curls into something cynical. “That’s more optimistic of you than usual. You don’t- You don’t really believe in anything like that.”

Kisuke is silent until Ichigo looks at him again, and he holds his gaze as he replies, immovable and steady in a way he feels down to his very bones, “I believe in you.”

Ichigo wheezes out a laugh at that, hurt and feral and broken right down the middle. “I’m no one’s moral compass anymore, Kisuke.”

Kisuke shrugs. “I don’t need you to be. I just need you to be you. And whether that means drenching the world in some more blood or rebuilding an entire civilization, I’ll still be right here beside you.”

Ichigo stares at him. Kisuke honestly doesn’t know why he’s so shocked. To him, it’s not anything he hasn’t already looked in the mirror and accepted - the sun rises in the east, water is wet, early mornings should be shot, and Kisuke looks to Ichigo first, always.

(It used to be Yoruichi. He thinks, sometimes, in the dark of night, that it scared her a little, and that was another reason she made him leave her side.)

“I don’t think that’s a good thing,” Ichigo eventually mutters. But he can’t seem to look away from Kisuke.

( _And that’s the way it should always be,_ Benihime purrs inside him.)

“I’m probably legitimately crazy at this point,” Ichigo adds with a self-deprecating twist of his mouth.

“Well then it’s a good thing I’ve done worse things in my life than follow a madman,” Kisuke murmurs, and this time, Ichigo’s laughter is still a shadow of what it used to be but it sounds a little more genuine too.

Neither of them says anything else for a while. But Ichigo’s silence is more thoughtful and his eyes a little more alive, so Kisuke is content to relax into it.

He’s patching up a cut along Ichigo’s temple when fingers tangle in his hair, tightly enough to feel the tug but not enough to hurt.

He meets the wild desperation in Ichigo’s eyes.

“Promise you’ll stay,” Ichigo whispers. “Promise you won’t leave.”

There’s a thousand different reasons why that isn’t a smart promise to make. A thousand different reasons Kisuke could break it without even intending to.

But all he does is twist his arm a little until he can thread his fingers with Ichigo’s, and his answer is quiet and confident.

“I swear it on my life,” He promises. “I won’t ever leave you alone.”

He’s always been good at staying alive anyway. There were days he was thankful for it, and days he cursed it.

But Ichigo needs him now. And Kisuke has no qualms spilling some blood himself if that will keep him at Ichigo’s side for however long Ichigo wants him there.

It’s probably not something a good man would stoop to. But Kisuke’s never been that, for all that he tries to be better these days, and as Ichigo leans forward and all but collapses into Kisuke’s embrace, he thinks that’s fine.

Ichigo doesn’t need him to be good. Maybe it’s unhealthy, and Ichigo will grieve and grieve and Kisuke is going to have to coax and talk and drag him out of that pit, but Ichigo needs someone strong enough to remain at his side no matter what anyone throws at him and those around him, by whatever means necessary, and that is the kind of man Kisuke has always been.

“I’m tired,” Ichigo mumbles.

Kisuke presses a kiss into his hair. “Then sleep. I’ll take care of everything else until you wake up. Trust me.”

And Ichigo does.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Technically a day late but at least I got it in on time for the event. Hope you enjoyed!


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